Red Lights
by B.Starling
Summary: Never fall in love with someone who sells themselves for money. Sasu/Naru. Some OOC, and VERY short "chapters" more or less paragraph long drabbles POV switches every chapter, R n R plz- flames will be doused!
1. Chapter 1

"Another day of utter shit"

~Spring Awakening

There was no way it was time for him to wake up. There was simply no way it was already six a.m.. Yet, the buzz of the alarm clock by his ear was incessant, and a stream of light illuminated the dim at the foot of his bed. Sitting straight up, feet on the cold hardwood floor, he absentmindedly clicked the off button before stumbling into the shower. He shouldn't have gone out so late- should have followed his own rule- should have made it home before midnight. Water rushed over his shoulders, washing away the previous nights activities; his guilt and his pleasure and his sin. Leaving a towel over his hair, he slid into his clothes. The same outfit every day: suit, shoes, and tie. It took four minutes of staring to realize something was off. She was gone, the smell of coffee wafting up from downstairs, the bed made. Heading back into the bathroom he placed every piece of hair perfectly, securing it with a sickening amount of hairspray. Down the stairs and into the kitchen, she was leaning over the counter, scanning the front page of the newspaper. He took a moment to renew his distaste for color of her hair and the hue of her eyes before gulping down a mug of coffee.

"Late night?" She asked quietly. There was no sign of mistrust in her voice- she had no idea what he was really doing.

"Hn." He set the cup in the sink and headed for the front door. He heard her barefooted steps following him. Pausing with his hand on the knob, he faced her.

"Just call me next time…Okay?" She pulled her robe tighter around her waist, green eyes watery but firm. He forced his own eyes to soften, pecking her on the cheek and tossing a miniscule smile.

"Promise." At that, he was out the door, making a beeline for the silver lexus in the driveway. One more second would have killed him. The office was murder, but being home with her was worse than eternity in hell.


	2. Chapter 2

"You can always close your eyes"

~anonymous

The morning air was cold and unforgiving as he walked down the sidewalk. Pulling an all nighter was tough, but he needed the cash. Rent was due next week, the heater was broken, and he hadn't eaten a real meal in three days. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he smiled at the wad of various bills curling around his fingers. He briefly felt the pressure of a guilty memory behind his eyes, but pushed it back before it could manifest. It was the only way to keep paying the bills, and if he had to pretend it wasn't real, it wasn't real. Glancing through the window of a restaurant, he smiled. It was nearly empty but that was perfect. He was quick to take a seat at one of the many open tables. The grumbling in his stomach seemed to echo in the quiet. Slipping out of his heavy jacket, he set it over the back of his chair and dropped his bag to the floor. Stretching out, he grinned when a waitress appeared. She was young, no older than twenty, no older than he was. She fell immediately for his million-dollar smile, fumbling with her pad of paper before blushing the color of the carpet.

"Hi… um, what can I get for you today?" She asked, watching the table more than him. He laughed a little, resting his chin on his palm.

"The biggest plate of French toast you have, please." He smiled at her once more and turned to the window as she left, watching the people and busses pass by. Previous thoughts invaded his mind, and he shook his entire body to get them out. He had to keep smiling, keep awake, and keep thinking of food. The smell of maple syrup took over, and he grinned. The waitress returned with a pot of coffee, filling his mug and setting a glass of water in front of him. "Thanks." He smiled, taking it black. The searing liquid burned his throat, but he was warm and it felt good. The food came shortly after, his plate spotless in under five minutes. Alcohol, chocolate, and ramen were not enough to live on. Pulling his jacket back over his shoulders, he took the money out of his pocket, leaving thirty dollars on the table. Tips were invaluable- he knew that first hand. Grabbing his bag, he ignored the sting of the air and continued his brisk walk toward home- his escape from reality.


	3. Chapter 3

"This is all very predictable"

~anonymous

"I'm going out with the guys tonight, I'll be home late." He smiled, kissing her on the forehead

"I'll see you in the morning baby," She mused, pulling him into a kiss before her heels clicked toward the mirror in the hall. That single kiss was more than enough to make him once again run out the door. He was downtown in minutes, parking in front of the bar he always parked in front of. Locking the car, he lowered his eyes and headed down the street. The faint red glow and accompanying ruckus consumed his senses before he was close enough to appreciate them. It was only a few more steps before he was assaulted by touches and tugs and calls for cash. But it wasn't his part of the road. He pushed by the fawning young women until he could smell where he belonged. Stale wine and cheap perfume and silk replaced by saki, musk, and fresh sweat. He eyed the boys lined up at his left and right. Tall and dark and short and fair, someone for everyone and every budget. Stepping into a familiar building- overly lavish and heavy with smoke- he stood in front of the small chaise serving as a front desk of sorts.

"Mr. Uchiha, how may I help you today?" A middle aged woman asked, brushing her skirts clean before standing.

"I need to relieve some tension… Give me the best you've got." He said gruffly. She nodded, a shrill whistle piercing the air. In seconds, six young men were stood front of him.

"Take your pick- these are my best boys- you know my prices." He scanned the row, ignoring faces entirely he snatched a thin arm and dragged the boy toward the stairs.

"What would you like?" A small voice asked, startled when the door closed with a bang. Sasuke began stripping his clothes, walking toward the man on the bed.

"I would like you to shut the hell up."


	4. Chapter 4

"Slowly I woke to realize it wasn't a dream"

~anonymous

Combing through his unruly hair, he sighed at his reflection. Suck it up; this isn't your life, not for real. He pulled on a skintight shirt, even tighter jeans, and vest- for the sake of staying healthy. Grabbing his bag, he was out the door, locking it behind him. He purposely lived five blocks away. Close enough to walk, far enough to stay hidden from everyone else. No one ever went back, ever, no matter how much they paid. It wasn't his job to find a bed; it was his job to keep himself safe and sane. Slinking into the glow of red paper lanterns and light bulbs, he took his usual corner after handing his stuff to Tsunade for safe keeping. In minutes, a man made his way to their side of the street. He looked nervous- a first time in the district. He was too young to pay well, but he wouldn't be rough. A few filtered in behind him, more prospects. One caught his eye, and he looked down, nibbling his lip. Older, a familiar face, he would overpay and it would hurt. Footsteps came closer, and his blue eyes locked with brown.

"All night," a firm and gravelly voice said, mouth in a smirk. He closed his eyes, weighing his options. "Three thousand." A shaky breath and his eyes opened again.

"I don't kiss on the lips." He said quietly, and the older man scoffed. He was slammed against the wall, lips on his neck, vest on the ground, bump growing on the back of his head. It was all for the money, all to pay the bills, just another night in someone else's life - another night in a bad dream.


	5. Chapter 5

"See the things you want as already yours. Think of them as already in your posession."

~Robert Collier

The clock read twelve thirty, it was time to go home. He glanced at the sleeping body in the bed, buttoning up his shirt, leaving a few dollars on the dresser. Walking downstairs, he handed a bundle of cash to the woman and left without saying a word. The sounds outside seemed to have grown louder and he shrugged on his jacket. Trying not to look anyone in the eye, he made his way back toward the street. A heavy moan caught his attention as he passed an alley. He looked toward the panting and felt a pang in his chest. A brown haired man in his later thirties, molesting the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. Tanned flesh, gold hair, blue eyes wide and embarrassed when they met deep black. His mouth fell open in an almost silent gasp, eyes closed, cheeks flushed. Returning to his senses, Sasuke quickened his pace and almost jogged toward his car. He sat in the driver's seat, behind the wheel, listening as rain began to fall lightly on the windshield. For the first time in years, he wanted something so badly it was eating away at him. He wanted that boy, he wanted to be the reason for that face, and he always got what he wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

"And then I woke up."

~anonymous

He rolled over, certain his client was asleep. The money was in a wad on the nightstand on what was his side of the hotel bed. He had counted it carefully after it was handed to him the previous hour. It was all there-plus a hefty tip-more than he would make in a month. Still, he felt empty- it wasn't his life, it wasn't his job, and it wasn't his body. Making his way to the bathroom, he let the water and soap remove his sins. It took nearly twenty minutes for him to feel clean enough for fresh clothes. Sore and bruised, he re-dressed and crept silently into the hall. Hiding his face from the desk clerk, he walked two blocks before getting sick. Hunched over, he leaned against a brick wall, trying to hold himself together. Thoughts of home and a warm bed- paid off bills and a full stomach- brought him back to the sidewalk. It was someone else's life, and someone else's pain, but it was his heat-less apartment, his empty refrigerator, and his sanctuary.


	7. Chapter 7

"You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right"

~ Roxanne by The Police

"I have to go on a business trip this weekend." Sasuke said over his dinner plate. She looked up, eyes sad and surprised.

"I was hoping we could do something this weekend… I feel like we hardly spend any time together anymore." She sounded like she was going to cry. The last thing he wanted to deal with was her crying. He had trouble simply listening to her speak, her bawling was impossible.

"I'm sorry, I didn't ask to go, but my position carries specific obligations. We're working on a major partnership right now and I can't afford to let it fall through because some rookie didn't say the right things." His tone was biting, and she dipped her eyes to her empty plate. Sighing, he placed a hand over hers. "Next weekend, I'll be all yours." He forced the words from his mouth sugary sweet, but he was a child apologizing for talking back- all lies and resentment. She grinned, lacing their fingers together.

"Really?" Her voice more than hopeful.

"Really." He kissed her once on the lips before returning to his meal. He didn't have time for her, he never had time for her. If he ever had a spare moment it was spent as far from his wife as feasibly possible. He didn't love her, not any part of her. He detested everything about her, and were it not for the business agreement between he and her father, he never would have acknowledged her existence. Her silverware clinked against her plate, and hands slithered over his shoulders.

"Let's go to bed baby…" She whispered, kissing the flesh behind his ear. He went rigid before making himself relax. Standing up, he smiled and took her hand. Leading her up the stairs, she was quick to head to the bedroom. He turned to shut the door, throwing a grimace to the shadows in the hall.


	8. Chapter 8

"**I had so much fun I thought I was someone else."**

**~anonymous**

**There was nothing like the simple chores of daily life to bring a smile to his face. Walking up and down the aisles of the grocery store made him feel normal, made him feel real. Leaning on the cart, he smiled at the fresh produce and cases of instant ramen. Food was a commodity in his world, having the heat back on was a treat, and being able to take a few days off was heaven. Making his way through the dairy products he scrunched his brow. Milk shouldn't be so complicated, it was just milk. Grabbing a carton he scanned it quickly before tossing it in with the rest of the food. Making one more run through the aisles he proceeded to checkout and gladly handed over the hundred and twenty dollars, plus change. Lugging the bags back home, he put a cup of ramen in the microwave and flopped down on the sofa. He had the luxury of watching television- time to just waste. There was nothing on but re-runs and infomercials but he didn't care. Slurping down the warm noodles, he curled his legs up beneath him. He let his mind wander for a moment, and smiled. This was his life, this was for real.**


	9. Chapter 9

"I see you shiver with antici…pation."

~The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Three days seemed like forever. He left early, booked a five star uptown, and called in to work. He didn't have to go to work but one day a week, though he worked more often than the people he hired to work for him. Anything to stay away from home, and away from her. It was only four in the afternoon, a good six hours before red lights would illuminate the night, casting their treacherous hot glow on anxious customers. Lying on the overly large bed, he stared at the overly large television. Over eight hundred complimentary channels and nothing at all to watch. He turned to his laptop, and his work. Sifting through spreadsheet after spreadsheet and expense report after expense report he was swallowed by numbers and dollar signs. The next time he looked up, it was nine-thirty, dark out, and pouring down rain. Yanking on his jacket, he made it downstairs and into the car in under two minutes. He felt a flutter of something in his stomach as he headed downtown. He was finally going to get what he had waited all week for, and it made him feel like a kid on Christmas morning.


	10. Chapter 10

"I'm beginning to feel susceptible."

~anonymous

He didn't want to go to work. He didn't want to feel sick again. All he wanted was to stay on his couch, warm and sleeping and watching too much T.V. Still, he had put the little money left after shopping and paying very late bills into the bank, and it wasn't enough to live on by any means. Ignoring the rain, he hid under the comfort of his jacket and slipped farther out of his life with every step. The lights seemed even brighter than usual, and he leaned against his corner- thankful for the overhang above. Hood down, he shook out his hair and breathed a shaky breath. He watched the boys in the doorways, flaunting whatever assets they had to try and lure in the steady stream of men that ended up at their end of the street. He eyed them carefully as well, looking for a customer that wouldn't try and rip him off or hurt him or have no idea what to do. Everyone seemed too drawn in by the dry of the houses to really see the boys under the eaves or shadowed on the corners. A few had taken to doorways, filled the sparse seating area at the open bar, or turned away for home. He sighed, thinking about following their lead when someone caught his eye. He remembered that face- moreover those frighteningly dark eyes. The man who had caught him in the alley, heat rising to his cheeks at the memory. He was always careful, never wanted to be caught. But the money and the agreement had caused a lapse in judgment. He felt a strange want in his chest- he wanted the man to go away and come closer at the same time. He wanted to touch that creamy white skin- but didn't want to be touched. Wanted more than anything to run straight home- but even more to stay.


End file.
